Why
by LokiLiesmith
Summary: After falling into the void, Loki finds himself in a place he was not keen on visiting again, until realizing he is actually wanted and accepted here. Cue Thor appearing out of the blue to spoil Loki's shiny new life. Past ThorLoki LokiJane slash femslash het
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Loki, writing Thor fanfiction, how pathetic is that?

**Warnings:** Fluffy story is extremely fluffy, rusty author is highly rusty. Also, not native English speaker author does not speak English natively. Please feel free to point out mistakes. I'd actually be grateful if you did – this is my first English story.

This is going to be a slash/femmeslash story with rather fluent gender roles. So if you don't like femmeslash/slash in general, or Loki/Thor/others in particular, go away please. Now. Seriously.

It's also going to be an AU story... by the time the Avengers are out.

**EDIT:** "Why" has now been revisited and polished. My presumption about it being AU proved true – how unexpected! I started writing "Why" before Avengers, but after Thor, obviously. I worked on the first chapters only using the happenings of Thor, and some Avengers trailers. After watching the Avengers, I could not resist letting some of the happenings flow in as well (mostly for the amusement of my readers at how AU this story is).

**Disclaimer:** Wut? I don't even belong to myself anymore? Ah um well, this versions of Thor and Loki, and all the other persons in this fic, belong to Marvel, yadda, yadda, yadda. Applicable to all chapters!

**My typical writing auxiliaries:**

- One bottle of champagne

- Inspiring song #1 (Thor for Loki): "Set fire to the rain" by Adele

- Inspiring song #2 (Loki for Thor): "Jar of hearts" by Christina Perri

- Pizza leftovers directly from the greasy box.

That was a hell of an A/N. Well, this only happened once, I can assure you; all the other information is woven directly into the story, so no lengthy blah from me in the next chapters! Happy reading 3

ooo

How dared he!

Loki seethed.

How dared he be here?

How dared he simply pop into existence, directly in front of his nose, as if the Bifrost was in its best shape, as if nothing ever went wrong?

As if they did not fight to the death, last time they saw each other? That fool snarling at him in his righteous rage, Loki fighting dirty. Dirtier than usual, that is.

How dared he waltz in, as if he owned the place! How dared he disturb the peace Loki had found, along with people who actually cared about him, and cared not who he was, by his mere presence?

How dared he _smile at him like this_? All white teeth and dimples and electric blue eyes, holding the skies, and promises of home and forgiveness, and so much love it made Loki's knees go weak. Tanned, scarred hands Loki remembered pleasuring his trembling body only too well, forcing raw screams from his throat, now gripped the counter:

"A double cappuccino to go, please… _brother_."

ooo

Loki was the exact opposite of stupid.

So he realized: _Not_ being one, for Midgardian standards, very strange individual in armour, sporting bruises and a horned helmet sitting askew on his head, would be very helpful regarding his first plan: Getting the Hel out of that desert.

He spat sand into the… well, sand, still dizzy and sore from the hard impact, as he limped through the, exactly, sand, along the road, and towards the outlines of a town flickering in the distance under the unforgiving sun. Probably a Fata Morgana, knowing his luck.

So far three of these loud, foul odour producing vehicles had rushed past him, even with him (or maybe _because_ of him) waving his arms desperately. Loki cursed colourfully, plunked himself down on a big rock and closed his eyes, putting the last bit of his strength into the magic he weaved around himself.

As he opened them again, he was a long-haired brunette (he just could not bring himself to be _blonde_), with dark eyes instead of poisonous green, high cheekbones, full lips and even fuller curves. Just the kind of woman he would think desirable himself.

Loki admired his reflection in his helmet, then proceeded to take off his boots and armour as well, ripping shreds off of his tunic and slacks, until he stood there half naked, the remains of his clothes doing nothing to hide his generous breasts; he would not rely on chivalry _alone_.

The next vehicle came to a screetching halt behind him, and Loki smirked to himself (_so predictable_) before turning around, stumbling on purpose, and trying to look helpless, vulnerable and very much in need of the assistance of a tall man with strong arms.

"Miss! Miss, is everything all right?"

Well, the guy looked neither exactly tall nor strong, but he had kind blue eyes and a gentle smile, so Loki put on a especially good show with the "faint in his arms"-classic.

ooo

"Well, you might not like it, but she totally looks like a Leyla kind of person." Darcy nodded to herself.

"… it evokes stripper connotations." The other woman, Jane (Loki had twitched a little at the name, but on the other side, Jane seemed a pretty common name in this realm) smiled at him, shaking her head.

Loki smiled tentatively back and bunched the quilts tighter around himself, wondering; "stripper" sounded like a specific line of occupation on Midgard. So people got paid for simply taking their clothes off? Interesting concept… maybe he could –

"Aw come on, it sounds exotic, hence suits her looks –"

"Dinner, ladies!"

Erik bustled in, handing out these… sustenance packs called "sandwiches", and the beverage Loki was not sure whether it consisted of magic or drugs or both. He ignored the food and gulped down the hot liquid.

With Eric here, Jane's tiny house on wheels definitely threatened to burst. Loki sat on the bed, squeezed in between the closet and Jane, the other two humans claiming all the space on the floor. Yet Loki was feeling cosy instead of claustrophobic. He felt safe.

Until…

"Well, now we know that your name is apparently not Leyla – and that you like coffee. It's a start."

"Darcy, this is not amusing in the least. She is amnesic to such a grade she does not even remember her own name. We found her in the desert, confused, her clothes torn. Maybe she is an abuse victim. Maybe we should finally take her to a hosp–"

"NO!" exclaimed Loki. "Please, I…"

"_And_ we also know that Not-Leyla is afraid of hospitals," said Darcy, unabashed.

Loki gulped; he would not commit the mistake of underestimating certain Midgardian aspects again. He had seen what they did to Thor – and he was positive their machines would detect his brain was functioning at its best. Maybe they would run other tests, too, and then he would have to flee. And probably to kill in order to flee. All the stress! He had just found out he preferred sitting here, cuddled up against a warm body and drinking coffee.

It was probably the hormones. They made him all pacifistic.

Loki turned his best doe eyes on Erik.

"We discussed this often enough, Jane," Erik said sternly. "She's been here for a few days already, and she seems well enough… physically. Didn't even have a concussion. So if hospitals scare her, even the word 'hospital' is forbidden from now on!"

Erik raised his chin defiantly and Loki smiled fondly at him; Erik certainly needed more practise in Being The Man, but having the mortal trying to protect him warmed his little cold heart. Also, for now it sufficed; Darcy seemed to always be fine with whatever the universe threw at her anyway, and Jane (whose taking everything very seriously he also liked… paradoxically enough) only muttered under her breath. It was something along the lines of "we've already made a habit out of picking up strange guys without identity…"

Loki threw her a curious glance, narrowing his eyes in confusion at the melancholy passing over Jane's beautiful features, if only for a short moment. Then she smiled weakly at him and handed him another paper cup of that divine coffee.

"Well, at least I didn't need to taser this one," offered Darcy around a mouthful of sandwich.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

The fury consumed Loki from the inside, turning his heart and mind to ash for the wind to scatter, while he was stomping down the dark street.

He was such an _imbecile_.

Surely he would simply implode, if he didn't find an outlet for his rage soon.

She. It was _her_. And he'd surely been blind.

Blinded by Thor's eyes taking up all his vision, looking up at him imploringly through the Destroyer's lifeless orbs, their warm blue light overcoming time and space. Too mesmerised by his brother's broken pleading to really take notice of the group of mortals huddled together in the background, protected by Thor's friends.

To notice _her_.

Loki balled his fists around icy cold green flames, squeezing his eyes shut, trying so very hard not to take out his rage on that random woman, along with her two little children, hurrying past him. No, not because he adored children, regardless of their species. He was not a compassionate person, thank you very much. He just had no use for the extra attrention it would draw to him.

He stared after them with unseeing eyes, at the giggling little boy bouncing up and down, the little girl tugging at the bags full of groceries in her mother's arms, whining and begging for sweets, his heart aching for reasons he did not care to explore.

Why take their lives, when he could take _hers_?

ooo

"… do you have any idea how worried you got us?"

Erik was trying his best to look the stern fatherly type, and failed miserably, because his voice was trembling, and his hands were too. His whole body, actually.

Loki surprised himself by just going limp in the man's embrace. Which he did not enjoy, of course. He was, of course, _not_ touch starved.

"She is back," mumbled Erik into that strage little device he seemed to carry with him everywhere.

Jane sounded strange, too, through the tiny speakers. Her usually so calm voice was high-pitched, bordering on plain hysterical. Loki thought he heard her cry through the static and her uninentilligible tirade, but he was surely mistaken.

Jane would never cry. Jane would never cry on _his_ behalf. Besides, she should better cry on hers…

Darcy was the next to show up. She looked rather out of breath.

"Oh, Leyla. You're so in trouble. We've taken the town asunder because of you, and Jane's totally going to throttle you now."

Jane barged in not even two minutes later, and she _did_ throttle him, by throwing her arms around his neck and pressing her tiny, fragile body against his.

She _was_ crying.

Loki decided he would kill her not until tomorrow.

ooo

Jane was still furious at him.

And Loki still had not killed her. Tomorrow, he would. Really. But not exactly now, because she was playing with his thick, waist long hair, braiding it absent-mindedly. The residues of her fury at him apparently did not hinder her permanent fascination with it. And her ministrations felt so good.

And no, he was still _not_ touch-starved. At all.

"Next time, just kick me out the caravan, when you need 'time alone to think'!"

"It's been three days, Jane. Would you give it a rest already?"

"No. I've been worried sick! This… this hicktown isn't the place for a pretty woman to wander alone at night, let alone one that doesn't know the most basic things about life! Have you seen the men here? They wear plaid and roam around in packs!"

Loki bit his lip to hide that unwanted smile.

"Why do you care?"

Jane's movements came to an abrupt halt, then she yanked at a strand of his hair viciously, making him yelp.

"_Simply because I do_!"

Loki jerked away from her, scrambling to his knees on the saggy couch to face her, sending pages full of calculations flying.

"You wouldn't, if only you knew that I lied to you all the time! I am not the person you think I am!" he hissed.

Only to bit his lip again a moment later, hard; whatever happened to that silver tongue of his? To his diplomacy? Now he was already trying to come to terms with the tought of being all alone again.

Jane sighed.

"I know," she said flatly.

"… w-what?" stammered Loki in a very small voice.

She hopped over the back of the couch, where she had been standing, to sit beside him, leaning back tiredly.

"I mean, all of us know. We are not exactly stupid."

"You… know…?" he repeated dumbly.

"Yes. I am aware of you probably… remembering… something. Or maybe everything. And of the fact that you don't want to. But that's okay. You… you don't have to… to tell us anything unless you feel ready, and until then, you are welcome to simply stay here. And be amnesic all you like."

Loki blinked rapidly.

These certainly weren't tears, oh no, surely not, gliding hot down his face. And right now, he was not feeling deeply ashamed, and the void in his chest was still pretty much intact, perfectly icy and black, _not_ filled up with sudden warmth and light. And he was still going to kill her. She had taken Thor away from him after all, and hence the Norns had given him the opportunity to "pay her a visit", he would not waste it. He would do it.

Some day. Surely. Probably.

Maybe.

"I… I really don't understand… how can you trust me… I lied… so why…?"

Jane turned her head she had previously pillowed on the backrest, luminous brown eyes opening. Those eyes were smiling at him despite her solemn expression. Loki resisted the urge to trace her indecently long lashes with his fingertip.

"Because you are a good person. I can feel it. My intuition has never failed me so far."

Loki opened his mouth, and, wisely, closed it again.

"… a good person with terrible taste. Allowing Darcy to name you Leyla? You can't be serious."

ooo

_He had been falling for seconds years millenia eternally._

_Time stretched across darkness enclosing him chillness made his bones brittle forced his mouth open penetrated every pore of his skin creatures of the void whispered to him touched him with icy fingers_ and oh, the saggy couch underneath him felt so good and the very real fingers shaking his shoulder.

And the air he breathed in desperate greedy gulps.

"…la… Leyla? … 're alright?"

Loki sat up, blinking, until Darcy's concerned face came into focus.

"… nightmare." He smiled shakily.

Her eyebrows drew together, but then she shook her head and smiled back and Loki was very grateful for her no questions policy.

"I'd get nightmares too from that stuff you're burying yourself in," she said, gesturing to Jane's books and calculations lying everywhere and taking all the space on the couch not currently occupied by Loki.

These calculations that had disclosed Jane's true identity to Loki in the first place. The fact that she was not any other Jane, but _Thor's_ Jane. The thought still made bile rise in his throat.

"Do you get any of these?" asked Darcy, tilting her head.

"No… no, of course not," lied Loki. "But I try to. It's fascinating."

The last one was no lie; it was fascinating indeed, how humans tried to press universe into little boxes they called science (he had tried and already grasped some of its ways). Not doing so, not trying to get some synopsis into things much to great for them to comprehend, would probably make their small intellects collapse.

Jane's intellect was not exactly small, though, he had to admit grudgingly; with that little information, and knowledge, and equipment she had at her disposal, she had almost done it.

She would be able to put her very own Bifrost into operation soon.

Too soon.

Loki's pen hovered over that one minuscule mistake she had made, the one that would hinder her, at least at the moment.

Then he clicked it, throwing it on top of the papers, and stretched casually.

Darcy was still eyeing him, head now tilted to the other side.

"Pity. I thought you remembered something, maybe working in a similar area earlier. But if you still don't, we can always try music, maybe that'd ring some bells… literally."

She went about her duties, feeding the beeping machines around more data, and left Loki to care for her beloved iPod. He vaguely assumed her iPod was rather supposed to babysit _him_.

Loki listened, and listened some more, then made himself useful by cooking dinner for his frien- …for the humans, while they were roaming about and working in the spacious warehouse.

By the time they were all seated around the table, Loki's ears were still stuffed. He only smiled vaguely at the raised eyebrows after being addressed without hearing a thing.

"Jane said you've probably been a chef in your earlier life, but you didn't hear her," Darcy informed him sometime later.

Loki reached for the tiny bud she had ripped from his ear, but she now robbed him of the other one as well.

"Damn it, Darcy!"

"Enough for now, you're going to get tinnitus and believe me, I know what I'm talking about. So… which style of music did you like? Sorry about some of the strange stuff I've downloaded, some friends sent it…"

Loki pondered. Then he declared he liked Iron Maiden. And Lady Gaga. And Rammstein. And Deine Lakaien. Oh and the soundtrack of My Little Pony.

Darcy blinked at him.

"Oh my God! You totally gotta have the most random and… and worst taste in music I've ever had the pleasure to come upon!" she said enthusiastically.

Then she proceeded to put so much make-up on him he hardly recognised his reflection in the mirror aftwerwards (even less than usually nowadays), throw her arm around his shoulders and take him to a night club.

Jane had to pick them up at 4 a.m. in the neighbouring city. She shoved them both into her van, inebriated and giggling, and was positively livid.

Loki tried to look remorseful, but a glance at her disapproving eyes and thinned lips was all it took to send him into a new giggling fit.

Borr and Bestla, she looked exactly like a very pissed off Odin right now.

She was amusing. He almost regreted having to kill her, next week or something.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

As the Son of Coul requested Erik's presence in SHIELD's main quarters, Loki wrapped himself in a cloak made of shadows and followed him.

He felt a little ashamed. Of course not for spying on the man with the kind blue eyes who had sat by his bedside, stroking his hair out of his feverish brow, and had made him hot tea, after picking him up from that desert, half dead.

But for dying from curiosity over these puny mortals' equally puny businesses.

Alright, not so puny after all; Loki blinked at the tesseract. It blinked back at him.

What the hell was _that_ doing here?

Another one of Odin's stolen relicts. All of them tended to fall to Midgard, or so it seemed.

All the better for him; Loki could envision it perfectly. Himself, king once more. King of Midgard, dressed in his regalia, the humans kneeling before him.

They were made to be ruled.

He would finally bring peace and prosperity to this world, and he would eliminate every factor, every subject that worked against said peace and prosperity. With help of the Cube, he would manage so much better than the leaders momentarily in charge. Even if they say that every nation has the government it deserves – he, Loki, would be merciful enough to give them more than they were worthy of receiving.

He would be the perfect King Asgard refused.

He would be loved and adored.

He would –

Last second, Loki refrained from taking over Erik's mind. Which was neither because of the man's fatherly smile he had often aimed at him, nor because of the tea at his bedside, thank you very much.

"Well, I guess that's worth a look", said Erik. "Interesting artifact. Presuming it in good hands, it could solve many of this world's problems, indeed."

Loki did not listen any longer; he retracted into a dark corner and waited for the object's examination to end. Then he trailed after Erik like a lost puppy, somehow intimidated by the dark claustrophobic metallic corridors of the HQ, so unlike the wide golden ones at ho- … in Asgard.

Maintaining the changed DNA in his body, and now disguising himself, had taken their toll; the fall had weakened his magic extremely. So after driving back ho- … back to their warehouse, Loki slinked into Jane's house on wheels, crawled under the covers, and fell into an exhausted sleep, haunted by dark, fluid dreams.

In the evening, he whipped out the best dinner he had ever cooked so far.

Certainly not to soothe his guilty conscience for spying, and for even considering abducting the Cube. It was nothing more to it, than simply being hungry.

ooo

Loki finally dared to look the truth in the eye, as it raised its ugly head: He loved cooking.

Not liked it. _Loved_ it with a passion. It calmed him, and the results of his efforts were … gratifying.

He had always enjoyed brewing potions, but real cooking would have been not worthy of Odin's second son. He would not even have thought about trying it back then. It was a work for lowly servants.

Well, here he was nothing more than that. He possessed nothing of any value anymore. But on the other side, he realized he possessed everything, in form of pure freedom; freedom that held so many possibilities, so many choices. He could do as he pleased, unafraid of disapproving eyes and whispers, of bringing shame to his family or the court yet again.

So he could cook, without having to feel embarrassed about it.

Maybe he did it, because it was the only thing he could offer in return for the humans' kindness towards him; he abhorred unpaid debts. He knew they expected nothing, he knew they had not much and still shared everything with him, and that abashed him even more.

But the praises, and the thankfulness for not having to resort to fast food any longer, but to healthy dainty dishes, and the wide happy smiles this gesture earned him each time, did not make him happy in return. _At all_. Really, it did not.

ooo

Loki hated cleaning as much as he loved cooking, so the dishes always fell in Erik's responsibility. The women were so messy the dishes would have towered up to the warehouse's roof, would they have fallen in _theirs_.

So as Loki grabbed some cleaning supplies despite all, he told himself it was because he could not stand the messiness and dirt any longer. He had to live in here too, after all.

He made Jane's house on wheels positively gleam from the inside and outside. And did the dishes towering in the sink. Also the ones which had miraculously found their way into the cupboard, despite being dirty.

(He then proceeded to iron all of her wrinkled, stuffed into the closet, shirts. Afterwards, he desperately tried to find a plausible explanation as to why he did _this_. And failed.)

Darcy (who had her little room in the warehouse to make mess in), Erik, and Jane, came to check on him later, after declaring the day's sub-sub-sub-project finished.

"My apologies, wrong door!" said Erik, after gaping at the sparkling interior for a full minute. He then took Darcy's arm and they made their hasty escape. Smiling.

Jane looked around. She blushed in embarrassment. She then grinned, and told Loki this had to be one of the nicest things someone ever did for her. Loki's heart skipped a beat.

Which was because he was tired from all the unusual labour.

She kissed him on the cheek.

Loki's knees went weak.

He _really_ was tired. Yes.

So tired, that he not only suffered from a fluttering heart and weak knees, but he had also entirely forgotten about taking revenge on Jane. But he would, any day now, he promised himself. Even as he curled around Jane's petite soft warm body in the bed she shared with him. Despite it being too small, and the situation probably uncomfortable for her.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

"… and I miss him so much and he simply left me _and I still miss him so fucking much_…!"

Loki was perfectly aware of the fact of not being drunk enough to have this conversation.

There was not even the chance to become remotely drunk enough to have this conversation. Ever.

He patted Jane's slim back awkwardly.

"I don't know why I even care! I don't know why I'm still working on opening this damned bridge. I keep telling myself I'd work on it anyway, but I know it's a lie. I keep telling myself that he had to break his promise, that something happened and he cannot come back, that he loved me too… but I know all of these are big fat lies as well…"

Her last words triggered an entire succession of strange reactions from Loki: He felt gleeful (which was not exactly strange, not for him anyway). But at the same time, he felt sorry for her, for his greatest rival (this one was not only strange, it was terrifying).

Jane was suffering, just like him.

Did that make them allies, then? Sitting there, two pathetic existences, intoxicating themselves with poisonous substances, longing for someone they both could not have?

Loki noticed he not only felt bad for her, but also an entirely undignified, innocent joy, because she confided in him.

"I miss him too," he whispered.

Jane looked up, her unfocused eyes suddenly sharp.

"Whom?" And then: "Do you remember –"

"No!" Loki hastened to say. "It's… it's just… I guess I lost someone too… I-I feel like I did anyway and… tell me more about this… Thor…?"

He gave her a helpless smile and swore never to drink again; the nice oblivion was not worth losing one's wits. Or dignity.

"Oh, that… was actually all that is to it… he would not touch me, despite his loving words, and the only thing that he gave me was a kiss… a kiss I took from him… he kissed back, but… I should have probably have – hiccup – listened to my female – hiccup – intuition, telling me he was kissing me and meaning someone else…"

Loki was now officially feeling bad for Jane. He squashed the very contradictory giddiness that came with it (because Thor had probably meant some random maiden, or maybe Sif, while kissing Jane – not him, never him), while she buried her face between his Darcy's-too-tight-sweater covered, heavy breasts again.

"Only kisses…?" he asked, just to make sure.

"Only unwilling kisses," mumbled Jane.

His fingers threaded through her hair; he also officially felt bad for having to kill her (any day now!). A pity, really. He liked her (Borr forbid!), and he liked holding her (he hated Midgard, making him soft, just like Thor!), and oh Gods, her pretty face seemed to belong exactly where it was –

Loki's half-closed eyes became as big as saucers. Then a wolfish smile lit up his face, as the perfect plan came to him.

He did not have to kill her at all! He would make her betray Thor instead, and take from Thor what he hold dear. His spontaneous plan was waterproof and oh so perfect. Alright, he had created this body to seduce a man, a man preferably wielding power and money, who could provide him with any comfort he would seek, while discreetly taking over this realm.

He had given up the taking over Midgard plan, even after having the Cube thrust directly under his nose, luring him with its deadly beauty. And he liked the company of _his_ humans too much, so he had given up taking over an accommodating man as well; he had then vaguely thought about seducing Erik, but the guy seemed impervious to his charms. Living with the company of two attractive young women and thinking of them as his daughters had spoiled him for Loki.

So no conquering Midgard, no rich man, no man at all for him, but oh well… Loki was a person flexible in every aspect. So why not take what his brother valued most?

Still smiling, he tilted up Jane's chin and kissed her.

"MMMPF!" made Jane.

_Thor claimed him. Finally. Who cared it was because of too much mead? Alcohol was known for increasing already existent desires. Was it not?_

"_I love you," said Loki afterwards._

"_I love you too," said Thor pleasantly._

"_No… I mean… I really love you, brother…"_

"_Oh, Loki, cease your nonsense."_

"_No… don't go away, please Thor… don't… I need you…"_

Yet Thor went away to celebrate their victory on Nilfheim with their… his friends, who only lived because Loki put his unmanly "tricks" to good use, and Loki proceeded to cry himself to sleep, curled up on top of his covers.

Jane was fighting him, wide-eyed, pushing against his shoulders, panting and sputtering.

"Please… please, Jane… don't go away… I need you…"

Unlike Thor, Jane stayed.

His begging made her go limp in his arms. Then put her arms around him, reluctantly.

And kiss him back.

Loki tweaked her cute rosy nipples, and fingered her, and licked her, until she was nothing more than a whimpering, moaning, twitching mess beneath him. A whimpering, moaning, twitching mess which did not think about Thor.

She had forgotten about his brother, and Loki… Loki was in total control of the situation; he did not moan, and twitch, and his panties were certainly not wet, and whitehot pleasure was, of course, not shooting through his veins, pooling between his trembling thighs. He was still giddy with the victory of taking Jane away from Thor, of making Jane betray her beloved, and, to his own astonishment, he was…

… making love to her.

He was kissing her knuckles, smiling at her like a love-struck fool, offering her his big soft breasts to play with. He was kissing her, whispering his adoration against her beautiful lips. He was pleading, spreading his legs like the cheapest whore.

Jane blushed and took what he was giving her.

It was like nothing Loki had ever experienced.

It was soft, and gentle, and it was the exact opposite of the fight for dominance he would have had initiated with Thor. It was nothing more than loving each other, sweet and gentle, holding each other, trembling with lust, feeling vulnerable, without being afraid of doing so.

"I don't love him less," said Jane afterwards.

_I don't, either_, thought Loki, and gave her a predatory smile.

"I can love you too." She giggled, and snuggled up against him, warming him. Only his body, of course. Because a puny mortal such as Jane Foster could not make his heart melt like ice in the sun. Ever.

Loki tried not to grin _that_ widely, it hurt his facial muscles.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

"You hurt her, and you can totally kiss your big tits goodbye!"

Loki found himself backed up against the wall, and blinked at Darcy's _totally_ un-dreamy expression, so unlike herself. How the Hel did he end up in this situation?

(This rather nice situation, he decided, as soft breasts pressed up against his.)

Ah, yes; it was probably related to him not being able to stop Smiling (yes, Smiling with capital S) all day, so widely he had had to be grateful for possessing ears. He had not felt that happy in years… He was… healing. Who cared that Jane would not give him the time of the day, if only she knew his true self? Being near Jane felt like honey coating his dark, aching soul.

In the morning, Loki hadn't had much to smile about.

Still half-asleep, he gave in to this very pathetic and unmanly urge to cuddle (that had been there, deep inside him, the whole time – not!). Then he was suddenly wide-awake, upon finding nothing to cuddle with.

Well, that was plain talk.

Jane had come to the conclusion that she regretted it, and her absence from their… her bed before sun had even arisen made clear she politely required for Loki to be gone.

He had done everything wrong again.

He did not even have enough fire left in his veins to get back to his first plan and take her life after all.

At least, he did not have to pack. He possessed nothing.

Sighing deeply, he wriggled into the jeans which were not his, and forcefully opened the door.

There was a muffled yelp from the outside, and Loki stared down at the cutest (he would have loved to decapitate whomever had invented this wretched word!) sight he had ever lain eyes upon.

Jane, sitting on her (as he had found out, very shapely) posterior, in the dust coating everything outside her house on wheels, limbs askew, still holding two steaming cups, and blinking up at him in confusion.

Loki flushed with shame for too many reasons to count, and expected her to scold him. But she just smiled, without even attempting to stand up, and handed him one of the cups, miraculously still containing half of the precious dark liquid.

"Coffee?" she had asked, and that was the ominous moment The Smile started.

The fact that Jane did not seem to be spared The Smile, either, as she went about her work, only made Loki's Smile grow wider.

Apparently too wide even for Darcy's tastes; and here he had thought they were friends, that she would be happy for him!

"Such… measures would be exaggeratedly violent, don't you think so?" he asked, smiling pleasantly at her.

"No, I don't think so," Darcy hissed at him. "So, again: I am menstruating, and it bloody, literally bloody, hurts, and I hate everything and everyone right now, and I totally feel entitled to death threats, so don't you mess with me! _Or with her!_ Have I made myself clear?"

Loki blinked at her; her usually soft eyes were now alight with blue incandescence, and for some reason he was absolutely sure she would still threaten him, even if she knew he would be able to kill her and turn her corpse to dust in mere seconds.

So he gulped and nodded.

ooo

In Darcy speak, "Excellent! Let's go out tonight!" apparently counted for "Sorry, had to get my point across, let's be friends again."

Loki had tilted his head in confusion at her being all rainbows and fluffy bunnies and butterflies again, but he had shrugged it off (he was not the only one in this universe permitted to be strange). So he made her a warm compress, in which he inserted what little magic sustaining this body had not drawn from him yet, instead of the herbs he claimed he inserted. After five minutes of laying down with it, Darcy declared she loved him deeply in a non-creepy, platonic way.

They painted the town red, dragging a protesting Jane along this time. Loki, because he wanted to be with her. Darcy, because she preferred being picked up by Erik, instead of a livid Jane, when heavily drunk.

And drunk she was, supporting an equally drunk Loki with her arms around him, now declaring she loved him in a creepy, non-platonic way. Jane was probably very drunk too, that's why she cuffed Darcy over the head, reminding her _Leyla_ was hers.

Loki's heart swelled, even if it probably shouldn't, given that at the current time, he was bent in half, and the women were both holding the hair out of his face. He swore never to drink again – wait, that had not worked last time, either.

Erik sighed audibly, as he started the motor again.

"If you continue soaking your brain in alcohol, you will never remember," he stated dryly.

"That's exactly why I'm soaking my brain in alcohol," croaked Loki weakly.

ooo

"Leyla, no one ever complained about your staying with us. You don't have to contribute anything."

"Maybe I don't have to..."

Erik (heroic Erik, who carried his drunken body home till Jane's bed, then promptly laid low, bemoaning his lumbago) sighed deeply. Erik seemed to be sighing a lot around Loki.

Loki, on his part, bounced excitedly on his seat.

"… but I still want to. I just wish to… repay your kindness. Or at least try to, because such things cannot be repaid. And I would really like to… to… I mean it's her birthday soon, and… I would like to give her something I was able to purchase myself…"

Loki blushed against his will, and Erik just smiled knowingly, eyes glued to the road ahead. Not for the first time, Loki asked himself what the Hel had happened to him.

He knew exactly, of course, but he preferred to lie, even to himself. All the more for being enough of a fool to allow himself to love, to really, passionately, truly love, his brother's woman. The one he had wanted to kill. His rival.

Who would be able not to love her? He was suddenly less furious at Thor.

So he loved her, and had felt like an idiot at Darcy's inquiry about what he was going to get Jane. For her birthday. Which was only two weeks ahead.

He still had no idea. The only thing he knew was… he was really a fool. He could have looked into her mind to find out. He then could have used magic to veil himself, and simply steal the gift she would have liked. Yet he did not, because he was sure Jane would not appreciate this. So he was making his own life difficult, despite the fact that she would have never found out.

"I am bringing you every day, and picking you up, understood? You won't take the bus."

Loki startled from his thoughts and stared at him. He then averted his gaze, blinking furiously. Erik probably did not even realize… he was like that. He was kind and soft-hearted and only a simple mortal and every bit the caring father Loki had ever wanted.

But Loki was still Loki, so he pulled himself together, and asked innocently:

"Is the coffee shop's owner a man or a woman?"

"A man as far as I kn— Leyla, what the hell do you think you're doing?"

Loki unbuttoned his blouse a little more.

"Excellent. Pick me up at eight?"

"You don't even know if you're going to get the job!"

"Oh, believe me, I will."

Loki popped open another button. Erik glared at him, and he most likely did not intend for Loki to melt like this under the fatherly attention he was getting in abundance now.

"Thank you for bringing me," he whispered, and kissed Erik on the cheek.

In front of the coffee shop, Loki jumped out of the van, smiled and waved, but Erik would still not drive away. So he came back once more, wrapping his arms around the man's neck, kissing him again.

"And thank you…" _For caring_, he thought. "For the fake ID," he said aloud.

Erik visibly deflated, glaring at him once more without genuine heat behind it, and was finally on his way.

Or so he pretended. Loki was not surprised to see Erik's van turn the corner – yet to hear the engine being put off there. Erik would probably "spy" a little on him, to make sure his new boss wouldn't be too ecstatic about Loki's choice of blouses. Loki's heart of ice melted a little more.

He was abruptly distracted from his (so sentimental they could be called mushy) thoughts. The fancy advertisement in Puente Antiguo's newspaper had only said the coffee shop next city was looking for an auxiliary help.

It had not said stepping over said coffee shop's threshold was like waking up in Valhalla, without even having to die a warrior's death.

Loki inhaled deeply the scent of roasted coffee beans, and of freshly brewed coffee, taking in the cared for interior, the various machines which could apparently produce incredibly many specialties from one simple basic ingredient.

And here he had thought he would have to suffer in order to earn the money for Jane's birthday present… and for ceasing to feel like a parasite.

He really wanted this job.

"… you have the job."

Loki grinned happily, returning the corrivals' hateful glances with an innocent one. And resolved upon proving his skills exceeded wearing half-open blouses, and batting his lashes, now that he had gained a foothold.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Loki loved his shiny new life.

It was a simple happiness. Nothing was complicated anymore. He did not have to please anyone, yet he did nevertheless. For the first time in all these years, trying hard brought smiles to the faces of the people he called family, instead of disappointed glances in one blue eye, because he was not Thor.

And Jane… she was the first person he ever met not to be offended by his sometimes-nasty and always politically incorrect manner. Underneath her quiet, serious surface, she was like him. Oh… except she was brave and determined. That, they had not in common, but it only made him love her more.

He sometimes wished he did not have to lie to her. But just suppressing facts counted not as lying, right? If she ever asked him whether he was a man in general and Loki in particular, not-brother-anymore to Thor, patricide, traitor to at least two realms, the very reason her lover, the one she loved more than him, had to shatter the only way back to her with Mjolnir, then he would certainly tell her the truth.

Yes, certainly.

Probably.

Possibly.

Oh, wait…

Alright, so it was a little complicated after all, but it still wasn't a patch on the issues he was used to.

He lived for the moment, and all he had to do in exactly this moment, was make his boss stop creeping up on him, and breathing down his neck. Literally.

"Fancy a fuck?" asked Loki in a bored tone, turning around. He popped his gum and leant back casually against the counter he had been cleaning.

Watching the man changing colour all the way up the red spectrum, then all the way down, and sputtering helplessly, was worth the use of such un-prince-like vocabulary.

(On the other side, Loki was rather proud of catching up to the local slang that quickly. _Ha, top that, Thor!)_

"Of course not! I-I just t-thought… we could go out… or something…" the human offered weakly.

"Go out, as in, movies, flowers and chocolates? Think logical: Where would going out lead to? Exactly. To the part in which we fuck. So why don't we just skip a step? You can have me without trying to appear honourable first."

"I've never met such an… unromantic woman!"

"You call it unromantic, I call it practical. So if you don't want that fuck, then stop wasting my time."

"I could fire you, you know?"

Loki knew.

He also liked that job… minus being courted by that pathetic excuse of a man – that admittedly handsome pathetic excuse of a man – who intended to cheat on his wife with his curvy waitress. Not that Loki cared; his morals had always been more than questionable. However, he for his part did not intend to cheat on Jane.

(Oh wait. That was… morally impeccable! He really was doomed. That damned woman.)

"You could indeed," drawled Loki, aware that he not only liked, but needed his job, thus had to play his cards well. "By firing me, the shop's income would decrease by exactly the 50 percent I helped increase it. Probably even more, as the customers won't like that I'd be gone."

"There's hundreds of your like," the man started, but Loki talked right over him:

"You are absolutely right, you can easily find another pair of tits. But would their owner also know when pushing them under the customer's noses would be advisable, so they would come back? Would she know when not to flirt, but compliment their wives' outfits instead, so they would come back as well? Would she be able to bake muffins which would make said wives come back, even if she flirted with their men directly under their nose after all?"

Loki smiled maliciously, and turned to go.

According to his plan, he made it only half the way to the door, when a big, tanned hand gripped his arm.

ooo

Loki nowadays often encountered the problem of not being able to stop grinning that happy goofy grin. He would get wrinkles soon, and he had not thought it possible to have sore muscles in one's cheeks.

So he tried not to smile that widely, as he dialed Erik's number for him to pick him up. He was still smiling like an idiot (like Thor, probably), while Erik was telling him off for being too late.

Loki had just gotten his first pay… altogether with the rise he had blackmailed his boss into granting him. The heavy bags in his arms hindered him in clapping himself on the shoulder.

You still know how it's done, oh yes.

He was still a man, after all, despite the body he now wore. So he knew how men worked, all the more simpletons like the owner of Loki's beloved coffee shop (who would never try and "court" Loki again). In a nutshell: No man would be still interested, if they did not have to fight for whatever it was they desired, if they got it too easily. Sad, but true.

There was a reason Thor never bedded the same woman twice.

Loki's brow furrowed. He bit his lip and forbade himself to think about Thor now, gripping his bags tighter.

"_I am sorry, brother," whispered Thor. "Why do you have to lie and deceive all the time?"_

_Loki knelt at Thor's feet, betrayal gripping at his heart, dread whipping through his veins like poison. He looked up, pleading silently with his brother to protect him._

_The needle glimmered between strong fingers, and Loki wept soundlessly, as it breached his lips. Odin watched silently, with Mjolnir sitting on the steps of the throne, the shaft of Gungnir gripped firmly in his withered hand._

_The gifts Loki had brought them._

_The gifts he was being punished for._

The dwarfs cheered, as the fist drop of dark blood stained the golden floor. A cheer for politics, Loki thought bitterly, shuddering with pain. A pain greater than just the physical one.

Loki's smile was weak now, while he stowed the things he had bought in the back of Erik's car.

The drive back to Puente Antiguo was mostly silent. Until Erik said:

"You did not have to get us anything, Leyla."

Loki's head snapped around.

"How do you know I got you –" He sighed then. "I… I just got my pay and I thought…"

Erik sighed as well, as usual around Loki.

"Thank you nevertheless," he said quietly.

ooo

That silly, ridiculous grin was back full force, of course, as soon as Loki realized that no one here was going to sew up his lips, not even in a metaphorical sense.

Erik seemed genuinely happy about the high quality parka Loki had gotten him, and made a big show of throwing away his old and rather worn out one.

Darcy squealed at the adapter boxes for her I-Pod Loki had bought her, so she could listen to music at work, without getting that "tinnitus" she had mentioned. Alas, he was getting one at the moment. He was sure the sounds she was emitting were not perceptible by human ears any longer. Unfortunately, he was not human.

Jane just kissed him deeply, after stammering something about how unnecessary it was, and why did Loki spend that much on that netbook.

"Well, I guess I was simply too impatient to wait until your birthday…"

He was also aware of _his_ humans never allowing themselves anything; all the funds they got from SHIELD, stayed with SHIELD, and went into their researches.

But now, they – and Jane – were happy, thus Loki was happy. Damned woman. Making him dependant all over again.

Loki forgot about his discontentment, as he was currently half-sprawled on Jane's lap on the saggy couch in the warehouse, melting into her. Jane seemed not that interested in getting back to work, and was melting back into him. Erik and Darcy collectively rolled their eyes at them, and left them to their sappy lost in each other eyes thing.

ooo

Loki yawned, ascending through many cottony white and pink layers of sleep, and fluffy pretty dreams. Interesting enough, most of them involved Jane in very naughty roles; one should think he had had enough of that, after making love half the night.

Borr and Bestla, he was still so tired… he cursed himself for having to uphold the lie and this body.

Yawning again, he stretched like a cat, groping about for his lover.

"Good morning, Loki," said Jane, from somewhere which was not their bed.

"Good morning," murmured Loki.

Then he bolted upright, wide-eyed with panic, sleepiness all gone.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

All of Loki's not exactly underdeveloped intellect had melted into _run_, and _so afraid_, and _they will get me_, and _run_, and _run faster._

So he ran.

Like he always did.

He had a problem, though: Jane was running after him.

"L… Loki…!" He could hear her panting, but her footfalls were stubbornly fast to keep up with his now long legs –

He had not wanted these legs back, and this body, and _being Loki_, and his panicky thoughts randomly fluttered about like terrified little birds. To Area 51 for example. And SHIELD. So he whirled around and hit Jane hard in the face the moment her small trembling hands closed around his arm.

Loki managed another few steps, after hearing her meet the dusty ground with a thud and a soft cry. Then his brain finally caught up with him again. He did not even dare turn around. See what he had done. So he stood there shaking like a leaf, fists balled at his sides, until a petite body slammed against his back, delicate arms coming around him in a vice-like grip.

"Please… please don't go…" whispered Jane brokenly.

Her voice sounded… wet.

She was choking on her own blood, because of him, and she still wanted him to stay.

Loki's knees simply gave way from shock or exhaustion; which was the only plausible explanation as to why he was now slavishly kneeling at his lover's feet, half naked, stifling his pathetical sobs against her belly.

ooo

Loki had done many unforgivable things in his life. Lying, deceiving, destroying, killing, punching Jane Foster in the face…

Jane had forgiven him, though. He just did not understand humans. Her. Actually… just her.

Her once beautiful features were now a mess, her left eye swollen shut, her lip split, her cheek bruised black and blue, the front of her shirt crimson. Yet she was the one to comfort him, allowing him to bury his face between her breasts and cry, kissing his temple, cradling him like a small child.

Gods, he felt so ashamed.

Loki crumbled like burnt parchment and told her I_everything_. /I About the place he had once thought of as his home. About the desperate attempts to please the man he had thought of as his father. About the obsessive love he held for the man he had thought of as his brother.

About the man that really was his father, the man who left him to die, the man he had killed.

About the place that really was his home, the place he had wanted to blast into space as tiny glittering ice crystals.

About the revenge he had wanted to take by destroying her.

About his megalomaniac intentions to rule Earth.

He half expected her to recoil from him in disgust, but her only reply to his confessions of patricide, and attempted genocide, and his attempts to kill _her_, was:

"Coffee?"

Loki gave a very teary laugh.

"That would be lovely, thank you."

He sighed as the dark beverage worked its magic, giving him enough strength to gather the remains of his own, and heal the damage he had caused, at least the damage to her flesh. Because all he as able do was destroy.

Jane disagreed.

Loki managed to resist these doe eyes of hers for exactly 5.2 seconds. Then he kissed her, crying some more as he did, whimpering and trembling.

And still so ashamed.

For being a century old pathetic schoolboy.

"… I've never… ever raised hand against a woman…" he mumbled after she had finally managed to calm him down.

It was, once more, the truth. Hitting women was just… bad style.

"Oh wow, now I feel so special," retorted Jane dryly.

Loki crawled closer, taking her hands and kissing them humbly.

"P-please… I am so sorry…"

"I know. I also know you hurt me out of panic, not out of fury. Which would be the reason I still allow you near me."

"I wanted to take your life… before," he murmured. "Out of fury."

"Out of hurt," she corrected.

Loki sighed quietly, wishing she would finally show any signs of fury herself. Wishing she wasn't so… so vastly superior, so damned wise, compared to him. A mere mortal. He had never felt so small in his entire life.

"Would you have tortured me, before killing me?" asked Jane, making him wince. But in her eyes was nothing more than a nearly scientific interest.

"No," he mumbled unhappily… and truthfully. "Not physically, at least. I do not take pleasure in physical torture, even less in torturing someone weaker than me. But your intellect is not weaker than mine, so I would have tormented you with words. I had imagined it, again and again. How I would lie to you, tell you about the gruesome things I was going to do to your fragile body. Lie to you about how Thor never loved you, but me, before killing you. B-but… it would have been a clean, quick kill afterwards. I do not take pleasure in killing, either."

Loki had the rather certain feeling that his reassurances were not suited to make his lover feel better. He just wanted to appear a little more… ethical. Which was, of course, laughable.

Jane surprised him again.

"I have known my instincts would not fail me. You are a good person, just like I said once."

"_I wanted to kill you_!"

"I am still alive."

"I lied to you."

"You told me the truth after all."

"I lied my way into your bed, to make you betray Thor."

"You love me now."

Loki blinked at her smiling, knowing eyes, then he leant into the touch of her small, warm hands, cupping his face.

"Indeed," he whispered, still astonished at her intuition. "I love you."

And he proved it to her, again and again, making her writhe and scream beneath his tongue, begging him to take her.

"No," he whispered against her searing hot skin. "This is not the body you desire…"

"Do you really think I care about which skin you're wearing?" snapped Jane in frustration. "The old legends about you proved true – you are a shape-shifter, so being fixated on your body of all things would be highly illogical. The sweet woman I fell in love with is part of you, Loki…"

Loki melted under her words, but with him being Loki, he just could not accept the happiness she was offering him on a silver platter without digging around in it for hidden hitches.

"You only still let me touch you because you prefer men after all."

"I don't care about gender, damnit!"

"… or because I'm not _that_ much uglier than Leyla."

"No, you are not, but interesting enough, sporting a penis makes you less intelligent than her!"

Loki tried (and failed) to look offended. Arguing with her was a lost cause, even more so with him trembling with unfulfilled desire.

"This is not my real body, either! Odin's magic that makes me Aesir is more than skin-deep, and I am grateful for it, as you would never make love to me again, after seeing the blue-skinned monster I told you I am! A monster whose touch would freeze you to death…"

"Show me then, before jumping to conclusions!"

"It is not possible without a Jotun's touch… and for that I am grateful, too…"

Jane sighed deeply, snuggling closer, trying to discreetly get rid of the few clothes he was still wearing.

"Your issues are so enormous one would need an army of psychologists to handle them. But I am only one… and not a psychologist, but the one who loves you, without you having to do something to gain it… and no matter what you look like…"

Loki, despite feeling his resolution dissolve, just couldn't resist putting her to the test. A test Thor had deplorably failed back then.

The magic was flowing through his veins, strong again after the (unintentional) break in maintaining Leyla's appearance. So, a moment later, he wore the body of the most disgusting customer whose advances he had had to stop more than once at the coffee shop. Middle-aged, incredibly ugly, sporting an enormous pot belly, just like his check shirt sported greasy stains.

"Loki, is that really necessary?"

He grinned at her, showing his new, yellow teeth.

Jane sighed exasperatedly at him, rolling her eyes towards the low ceiling, as if praying for patience.

Then she proceeded to make love to him with the same enthusiasm she had shown towards his other appearances.

ooo

Loki had expected any but the reactions he actually got from Erik and Darcy, after shuffling into the warehouse, now decently dressed (in much too short jeans), and doing, as Jane wished.

Tell them the truth.

_They deserve to know, Loki. They are my family. And yours._

No, Loki had not expected Darcy _not_ to taser him. Or Erik to give him that indulgent fatherly smile ever again.

"Well… that Leyla of yours was a little too perfect to be true," observed Erik, after Loki had finished, perched on the edge of the couch, wringing his hands, head bowed, while awaiting the humans'… his friends' judgment. "Too beautiful, too curvy, too nice. Also, she was a far too good cook."

"I can still cook," offered Loki miserably.

"Do you honestly still think you have to do something for us to want you here, Loki?"

Loki opened his mouth to say yes, and closed it again, after a sidelong glance from Jane.

Darcy had been silent (that was a first), staring at him the entire time, then she finally exploded:

"Why does Jane always get all the hot guys?"

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

Loki's life was, once more, nearly perfect. Of course, his life would never be _entirely_ perfect, but at least, it was closer to perfection than before. Well, at least this was a state his life hadn't been in for years. Pardon, centuries.

He had thought having something reselbling a family really caring for him, and a lover who only had eyes for him, would be close enough. But them actually _knowing_ and still accepting him felt so good like warm honey engulfing him.

It could have been absolute perfection, of course. And of course, it was his own fault that it was not the case. Because he had had to lie, just like always.

Jane did not know that Thor had had to destroy the Bifrost; he had conveniently kept away from her the fact that his brother did not come back to her as promised, because he was not able to.

Just as he had refrained from correcting that one little mistake in Jane's calculations.

Loki just could not do it. He wanted to be the man worthy of Jane's love, but being aware that she would drop him like something foul, should she come to learn all this, should she manage to build her own Bifrost, and get Thor back, made him refrain from his rare impulses of sincerity and selfless love.

So he did what he always did; offering gifts, so he would be loved. Now, as he possessed nothing, he offered himself.

Jane's patience with him lasted only a few days.

"Stop being so damned humble!" she finally snapped at him.

Loki gulped, interrupting the task at hand – kissing little toes, while massaging delicate feet.

"And submissive!"

"I thought you enjoyed humble, submissive me…" he whispered, looking up at her through his lashes.

Jane grasped his shoulders, pulling him up, and Loki felt like he was drowning in dark chocolate, as she made him look her in the eye.

"I kind of do," she admitted, blushing hard. "But I don't enjoy the reason for this at all… it's because you don't believe that I'd never leave you, that I forgave you everything…"

Loki wanted to cry in frustration at this little mortal woman seeing right through him. Again.

He sighed loudly.

"I just don't understand why." He cupped her pretty face. "Why did you? Because I know for sure I would have chased me away in your place."

"I love you," she said simply.

Loki was sure he would soon melt into a pathetic puddle at Jane's feet, yet he forced himself to be brave for once:

"What about Thor?"

"I love him."

Loki stared.

"Or did you think I could ever forget him? Do you think my love is worthless and fleeting? Have you forgotten what I told you once? Come on, we weren't that drunk…"

Jane kissed his temple, while Loki chose to stay silent for once.

"I said I will love you too and I meant it… first, I was afraid I would betray Thor, until I realized I actually don't, because I don't love him less because of you. However, I don't love you less because of him."

She smiled at him and Loki gave in, submitted to his fluttering heart, commanding him to melt into her, still kneeling at her feet.

"Do you love him less? Your brother? And lover for so many years?"

Loki smiled sadly.

"Of course I don't. Even if he's not my lover anymore."

"I am sure he loves you back still."

Loki smiled at her obviously trying to raise his spirits; his brother would never love him again, if he ever loved him at all, that is. Thor was his enemy now.

Thor would never accept a traitor at his side again.

But then again… did his brother not betray him, too?

"… stop thinking," ordered Jane.

Loki tried to suppress a grin at that.

"Oh yes, as if you'd ever stop thinking yourself – what the Hel are you doing!"

He gaped as she manhandled him onto the bed with surprising strength.

Jane smirked in a rather un-Jane-like way that made Loki's Jotun-cold bold boil, lava-hot. "I will punish you now, so you'd hopefully, finally, accept the fact that I accept you. And love you. And adore you. So kneel on the bed and spread your legs, please."

Loki nearly fell over himself in his haste to obey.

"… and be Thor, if you don't mind."

ooo

Loki still got hard – respectively wet, depending on the body he wore – when thinking about this episode.

First he had assumed Jane only regarded him as a cheap means to get what she actually wanted: Thor. Or at least, Thor's body.

(Because Loki himself wouldn't stand before the mirror, looking at Thor, stroking Thor's body, whispering his adoration to the brother he would never have again – of course not.)

Until he realized she had actually meant it; she had punished him. For lying. And simultaneously Thor, for breaking his promise, even if he did not, but Jane didn't know, did she?

Jane never asked him to play Thor for her again, and Loki felt relieved for countless reasons. Also delighted about Jane giving as good as she got; Loki was rather inexperienced, he had never taken other lovers than Thor, and the idea of shy Jane turning out to be outright naughty, only for him, pleased him greatly.

There were other things that confused him about her, though.

Like this one:

"Loki… you don't have to make me come at least three times before even thinking of taking me."

She was trembling underneath him, face flushed red, reaching out for him pleadingly. Loki was painfully hard, and trembling himself, but he still found it in him to give her a smirk and an arched eyebrow.

"Why not?"

"Because… because I feel like I am only taking from you, and giving nothing in return."

He buried his face in her hair, sighing.

"I stopped humiliating myself in front of you. Now simply making love to you isn't good, either?"

"It is too good… I've never been with someone like you before…" Loki felt soft lips on his brow. "You probably are the best lover on Earth, which is sad, for Earth's reputation, that is, seeing as you're not exactly from around here."

That coaxed a small grin from Loki.

"Don't stroke my ego too much." He rubbed a little against her leg, to demonstrate just how big his ego was at the moment.

Jane wrapped her legs around his hips, moving desperately against him, and this time, Loki just closed his eyes and gave in.

"Why are you like this?" she asked later.

Loki groaned; he had known it. Jane Foster was scientist to the core, thus unable to leave a topic well alone. As for him, he was still puzzled about what was wrong with treating one's beloved with respect and care.

"Why are you treating me as if you'd be afraid I would break?"

"Well, how would you have me treat you? I know that you know that I am the worst bastard to have walked the planet, but I do not see any necessity to extend my being a bastard to our bed."

The following silence stretched on, as Jane smiled at him sheepishly. Suddenly, comprehension dawned on him. His eyes became big and round, before he threw himself into the cushions, burying his face in his hands, laughing helplessly.

"You thought I would? You Midgardian women certainly have strange views," he mumbled.

ooo

"Correction: You Midgardians are insane as a whole."

Loki threw the Edda on top of Jane's messy calculations, as always taking up most space on the saggy couch. He had spent the last few hours torn between indignation and amusement.

Erik turned from his computer, smiling lopsidedly at him.

"What's the matter? Playing one of the main roles in a not exactly insignificant religious cult should do wonders for your self-confidence."

"Absolutely," deadpanned Loki. "I seem to have been the very symbol of destruction, to those unwashed Viking guys, who used to be that themselves, so that's saying something. Just as the fact that they used to rape their enemies into submission. Lovely. Seriously, I don't have one honourable bone in my body, so me finding this dishonourable means something. Besides, why sully an act one enjoys with someone one hates?"

The humans glanced at one another, but knew better than interrupt his ramblings. Jane was trying to hide her smile.

He growled.

"And I didn't give birth to a horse!"

Darcy patted his arm.

"Jane made me read this too, and don't worry, I was totally going bonkers over it the entire time, too."

Loki smiled weakly at her and threw Jane a dark look.

"… did you see the pic of Thor's Mew-Mew yet?"

"Come again?"

"His Mew-Mew." Darcy looked very serious.

The mental picture was too much for Loki to handle, and he burst out laughing.

"Whaaat? What did I say?"

"N… nothing…"

Loki wiped tears of mirth from his eyes. He could not remember the last time he had laughed like that, freely, carelessly, not out of malice.

"Well," he said, leaning forward, hands on his knees. "It is probably too late to get some Viking's mythology straight, is it now? I am many things, but not Sigyn's husband, whoever she may be. Or Angrboda's for that matter. According to this, she's a Giant – unlike me, a real one. How is that supposed to work… genetically?

"You should not ask for logic," Jane said amusedly. "You ate her heart."

Loki scowled at her.

"Very well. Oh, and while we are at this, I am not Odin's "blood brother", and not Baldr's murderer, he actually ate that damned mistletoe as a toddler and died of poisoning, I was not even born then!" He sighed. "I know, everything's Loki's fault. Still, I am rather sure I am not the bringer of Ragnarök, as I don't have any monstrous children. I won't even get started about my binding with my son's entrails. What kind of people think out such things? Forget it, was just a rhetorical question."

Jane smiled at his indignation.

"What, no one of this nice little anecdotes holds even a grain of truth?"

_Yes_, he thought, _some of them do, but I'd rather not think about them._

"No. Not even the funny ones, like me making Thor wear a dress in order to retrieve his Mew-Mew." He winked at Darcy. "Pity, I should have done that. The reality of the Asgardian life was much… duller, actually. Fat- … Odin never allowed us to travel to Jotunheim. So, the first time we went was the time I…"

He could not bring himself to say it out loud, even if they all knew what he had done, how he had betrayed his brother.

"At least I know how Jane found out at once the identity of the man lying in her bed in Leyla's place. Me being a shapeshifter is actually one of the few true facts in this entire load of nonsense." He pointed at the book and sighed. "That, and my little harmless horns fetish…"

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

Loki's perfect happy shiny life was not that perfect, happy, and shiny at the moment.

Today was Jane's birthday.

How on Earth had his pleasant anticipation turned into sadness? Ah, yes. He had not gotten the day off, because not bedding his boss also seemed to cut any privileges; there was only that much blackmail he could apply without losing his job. So no shopping delicacies and cooking the best dinner ever for his lover. Also, no baking fancy cakes.

And, to make things worse – no gift. Because, "Don't you dare buy me gifts, Loki!"

Loki felt terrible; he had no idea how to make Jane happy, with him not being allowed to do anything for her.

Erik was smiling mysteriously the entire way back home; Loki raised an interested eyebrow.

And melted into a puddle, like he always did in Jane's presence, as she threw her arms around his neck, pulling him into the warehouse to laughter, soft candle light, drink and the most misshapen cake he had even laid eyes upon.

"Don't be sad, I am simply happy you are here with me…" Jane emphasized her point by pushing herself against him and groping his breasts a little, unseen by the others, giving him a dirty little smile. "Mmh… very happy…"

And Loki's bad conscience disappeared just like that; he still had many years to present Jane with the perfect birthday menu and gifts, did he not?

After the third bottle of champagne, Jane pulled him onto the saggy couch. This was just another thing he found endearing about her. That messiness, and that she never reprimanded anyone for sitting on her calculations. Not if they sat on them in their free period.

Loki blinked.

Erik's and Darcy's chatter faded.

Even the sweet kiss he was receiving at the moment faded.

This was it. He would give his lover the perfect gift after all.

A gift no money could buy. A gift he would not have to shed blood for. Only to give himself.

ooo

"You are so quiet," whispered Jane into the darkness of the warehouse.

Her slim fingers had slipped under his shirt and were drawing patterns on his back. Loki leant into the touch. He was aware of his trying to buy some more time. He even wanted Erik and Darcy to come back again, but Erik had gone to bed, and Darcy… wherever Darcy used to go after lying about going to bed.

"You are thinking about him, are you not?"

Loki stiffened in Jane's arms.

"I think about him often, too. Even if it's probably the most unconstructive thing to do; he made it clear he doesn't want me… if he did, the Bifrost is only one step away."

Loki gulped hard. That was it; the perfect opportunity for his perfect gift.

"No, actually it's not." He sat up from his position, sprawled on Jane's lap, holding her tight so she would not recoil from him in disgust, after he was finished.

Because he had promised the entire truth, and still he had hold the most important detail from her.

"He loves you still. Not being able to come back to you made him go insane with grief, I have seen it in his eyes… while fighting him. Forcing him to destroy the bridge. The way back to you." The words were stumbling from his lips now, and Jane was so, so silent.

After a shuddering intake of breath, Loki continued:

"He saved the Jotun. The race I wanted to destroy… my kin. I never revealed to you how I used the Bifrost to reach my goal. And Thor… that noble oaf, he thwarted my nice plan. Thus rendering himself unable to come back. And it is directly my fault that you can't have him and… and I am sorry… sorry for causing you pain… sorry for lying… sorry for having you believe that he didn't love you… sorry for everything…"

Loki sniffled and it sounded pathetic even in his own ears, loud in the sudden silence.

"I see," Jane said at least, and the coolness of her voice sounded like his death sentence. He would not bear losing her. Loki hung his head as she pushed him away and stood.

He had done it. But oh, being the man Jane truly deserved hurt so much.

"Jane… please, I –"

"Is that all, or have you kept more of these… insignificant details from me?"

Loki got up as well and blinked against the sudden brightness, as Jane switched the lights on, apparently very keen to get rid of the previous romantic atmosphere.

"Actually… yes…" he whispered, choking on his own words. "Please accept a birthday gift from me after all," he then added pleadingly. "A parting gift…"

Jane opened her mouth to protest, and closed it again. Loki was too devastated to congratulate himself on his still perfectly working lost puppy look.

Still sniffling, he rummaged around until he found a clean sheet of paper, and a pen. He did not dare look Jane in the eye again, could not bear to see coldness in the previously so warm, dark depths.

"If you could open the Einstein-Rosen-Bridge, and bring Thor back, would you?"

"What?" Jane sounded flabbergasted. "What does this have to do with anything?"

"Please answer my question, Jane…"

"I… of course I would, but it's irrelevant anyway, you know exactly I failed, there's a glitch in my calculations, somewhere, but I just can't see what went wrong…"

Loki swallowed, pain constricting his chest, and placed the sheet on the low table in front of the saggy couch. Their saggy couch, on which there would be no snuggling anymore.

"This is your main calculation," Loki explained softly, scribbling with trembling fingers. "The one that should open the Einstein-Rosen-Bridge if put into practical use." He paused to think for a moment.

That was the point of no return.

"With emphasis on 'should'. I discovered the mistake some time ago." Loki was writing away, the calculations swimming before his eyes.

And no, he was not crying, thank you very much.

"It was a tiny mistake. But apparently the one that halted your progress."

Loki offered the sheet to Jane with shaking hands, and let go, as she finally took it. Then he looked at her beautiful face for the last time, smiling bitterly at the disbelieving fascination written all over it, while she absorbed the new information like a sponge.

"Oh… this is unbelievable… how could I…? Such a silly mistake… it all makes sense now… thank you, Loki… thank you so much!"

She looked genuinely happy, instead of cold and unapproachable; it made him happy as well. A bittersweet happiness.

So that was how it felt. Being selfless.

It still hurt like a bitch.

"Happy birthday, love," he whispered in her ear.

Then he kissed a peach-soft cheek and slinked away; unwanted and dismissed once more.

"Loki."

Jane's voice sounded very small and Loki turned around despite himself, despite knowing he was only hurting himself.

She stepped up to him, the sheet of paper still in her hand.

Then she ripped it neatly in two.

In four.

Eight.

And Loki stared, while the paper went up the range of the power of two, up to 64, which was the point for Jane's delicate fingers to give up in front of the too thick paper stack.

The pieces fell to the ground like confetti.

Jane cupped his face, and her smile was full of insecurity. And mischief. And love.

"There's a glitch in my calculations, somewhere, you know? But I just can't see what went wrong… I'll probably never figure it out. _Ever_."

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

Loki had needed eons to come to the final realization: The stadium of absolute happiness came only with the stadium of absolute truth.

He had been truthful. He had been really brave, probably for the first time in his long life. He had risked everything. And now, he had love, he truly had it, and no lie, no little speck of dust spoiled this sweet flawlessness.

He felt like a fool for not comprehending this much earlier. He would have spared himself, and loved ones, so much pain.

But now, as it was… Loki's life was shiny and perfect. This time for real. The sky was blue, the flowers were in full bloom, the birds were singing, Jane Foster would be his wife soon –

Wait, there were neither singing birds, nor blossoms in Puente Antiguo, but prickly cacti and vultures. Also, a sand storm was coming up.

Yet the "Jane Foster would be his wife soon" part was true and _beautiful_. As was the "she chose him over Thor" part.

_Him_. Loki still could not believe it. Who in their right mind would choose him over Thor? Maybe Jane state of mind was as questionable as his own, but he would stop questioning the happiness she was offering him. Her unconditional love and forgiveness. Things he had never experienced.

All he could do was giving this love back, adoring Jane, like she deserved. So he chose her back over Thor, despite his love for his brother being eternal and unyielding. A bitter, hurtful love. But Loki had finally stopped descending down the spiral of self-destruction. He had stopped hating himself that much, and allowed himself to think he deserved some happiness too, not that on top of the world, in the depths of despair Thor had always imposed on him.

And if someone was able to give him pure, unwavering happiness, then it was surely Jane.

Loki worked on autopilot, a big (and probably idiotic) grin plastered all over his face, serving the customers and delivering delicious coffee with his usual niceties, which came even easier to him, in his mindlessly happy state.

All he could think of was small pieces of paper raining down, scattering all over the floor. Jane's gorgeous smile, as she simply discarded the only way back to Thor (and the one to ultimate scientific glory at that).

Her disbelieving smile, as he did the only thing that he could think of as an appropriate answer to this: Fall to his knees and ask her to marry him. He then blinked in astonishment, realizing he really wanted it, not only making her his property, but giving himself to her in return.

He also realized the irony of it all: He had been Hel bent on conquering Midgard, making these weak creatures kneel before him. But here he was, on his knees before this small mortal woman, and could not imagine a better place to be.

Jane blinked too, then she threw herself at him.

They did not make it to the saggy couch. Loki did not exactly care; the hard, cold stone floor of the warehouse felt like the softest bed. Loki trembled and let Jane unclasp his bra, burry her face between his breasts, and make love to him.

Loki leant against the counter, chin in palm, and sighed blissfully. Then he grabbed his boss, who just went by, scowling at him, by the scuff of his neck, and kissed him fully on the mouth.

"She's going to marry me!" he exclaimed happily.

The man stared at him, dumbfounded. Then, he looked like he wanted to slap Loki… and finally, his expression softened.

"_She_, hmm? That explains why you were able to resist me."

Now, it was Loki's turn to stare. Such ego he had only seen in Thor.

"May I watch sometime?" The man grinned.

Loki whacked him over the head with his kitchen cloth, then went to see to his muffins.

Ten minutes later, he had finally managed to… convince his boss to allow him a few days off. Paid time off, of course.

Which might have been caused by his wife's convenient visit in the coffee shop, and Loki, unsolicited, bringing her espresso and those perfect, melt-on-your-tongue muffins only he could make, and the two of them chit-chatting for a little too long, making his boss go very pale.

"We were only talking," said Loki innocently, as the man came to usher him back to work, yet his eyes hold a warning he knew the other could not ignore.

For example the promise to discuss other things than weather and fashion with his wife next time. Loki internally shrugged; it was not his fault the idiot had brought this situation upon himself: Flirting with Loki, and every breathing being, as long as it had breasts, thus being susceptible to blackmail.

And blackmail he got. Loki had work to do, after all; pretty little houses, adorned with front gardens full of flowers, and white picket fences (the white picket fence seemed especially important to his lover), were not easily found.

ooo

"… and this is the nursery. It's pretty spacious. But I guess that suits such a young couple just fine, hmm? You have all the time in the world to have a bunch of children…"

The houseowner beamed at them.

Loki shuffled his feet. Jane blushed.

"Um…"

The old lady (in Loki's eyes, adorable old lady, with her blue polka dot dress, orderly grey hair, and everything about her just screaming "bakes cookies every Sunday for her grandchildren") chuckled at their awkwardness.

"How about I leave you alone for a while so you can look around on your own?" She smiled kindly. "Simply push the key under the doormat when you've finished, and call me after you've decided."

She waved and left.

Loki and Jane looked at each other.

"We're taking it," they said simultaneously, then laughed.

They took another stroll all over the house. It was everything Loki wanted: The exact opposite of the golden perfection at ho- in Asgard. The house was old, but it was a good old. Everything was clean and cared for, the dark wood of the doors, floors, and girders looked so homely, also there was Jane's white picket fence, and the front yard consisted in an abundance of flowers, and the kitchen…

The kitchen was a yellow fifties dream with an authentic stone baking oven. Loki eyed it with interest.

Then he kissed Jane softly on the mouth.

"We… we could turn the nursery into a guestroom, or something, if you like."

"Or we could use the nursery as a nursery." Jane looked up at him in wide-eyed innocence.

Loki gaped.

Then he pounced on her, his heart beating wildly, holding back tears; who in their right mind would chose him over Thor _and_ want to have his children? Jane Foster really was certifiably insane. Which was fine with him.

"Well, we should start practising, then," Loki purred in a small ear.

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

"… but it makes him look cool. Like a British gentleman."

"It makes him look like a dandy."

Loki tilted his head; he had no idea what a dandy might be, but he assumed it was not something flattering, so he removed the green scarf Darcy had picked out for him. He had found it pleasing, but of course he would not wear something his future bride disliked. He sighed and leant against one of the pillars in the luxurious men's fashion shop they had dragged him to, waiting for the women to finally be finished with him.

"It brings out his eyes."

"He doesn't need something to bring out his eyes."

Jane looked up at him from her tiny height (which, of course, did not make his protective instincts psych out) with an adoring smile.

"No, you certainly don't." She was staring into his eyes.

Loki tried unsuccessfully not so melt and gave her a small smirk.

"I could think of other… activities the scarf could prove suited for," he whispered, only for her to hear. To his amusement, Jane's eyes widened, then she put the scarf back on him at once.

"Besides, you wear the hell out of a Boss suit." Darcy had stepped up to the mirror Loki was admiring himself in. She was not staring at his eyes, though. Loki bit his lip to hide his smile.

ooo

Buying Jane's bridal dress was another business altogether. They had dared exclude him from the trip next city, and from choosing! Loki alternated between fuming at this silly Midgardian "no men allowed" tradition (and Darcy pushing him back into the warehouse, even after he had turned into a woman, then simply driving away), and dying from curiosity.

He forgot all about his annoyance, as they came back, Jane positively glowing with happiness. She was so beautiful. She would look beautiful even if she decided to wear a potato bag instead of a dress.

And she was all his.

Loki was still basking in this feeling of incredulous bliss, while they drew home (they had their own home to drive back to, and that made him even happier). The home they had spent the last weeks decorating and working on.

He felt positively giddy to finally spend the first night together in their own house. In their own bed.

In which they would continue _practising_. Because after the wedding, being a father would become more than a dream, more than something abstract. Jane had laughed at him being the traditional one this time, and promised to still take her contraceptives until next month.

Loki kissed his beloved greedily, as they fell on the brand new, soft mattress (it felt strange to Loki, who had been brought up as a warrior, whether he had wanted it or not, but it felt pleasant). His fingers splayed possessively over her soft, flat stomach, where his child would be. He was trembling, hard like a rock from the mere thought of taking her again and again, until she would swell with his semen. And she was trembling too, so vulnerable and pliant underneath him –

"_I love you," whispered Thor, spreading his legs for him. "I need you now, brother…"_

_Loki groaned at the sight of that perfect beauty, splayed out in front of him like a feast, at the devotion Thor had never shown towards him. It had been the other way around. Always. But now, Thor was moaning wantonly, begging him, whispering his love again and again, blue eyes burning, as Loki complied, thrusting into the willing, hard body._

Loki groaned.

"I… I'm sorry… I can't…"

Those indecently long eyelashes fluttered, then lifted. There was confusion in Jane's dark eyes, soon replaced by hurt.

"Why?"

"I…"

Loki gulped audibly and closed his eyes.

"You were thinking about him."

Loki winced; that was the reason why he loved Jane – she was not the type to beat around the bush. Also, she had a brilliant mind. Still, in this certain moment, he cursed the very reasons why he loved her.

Jane reached up, cupping his face, stroking it with her thumb.

"You won't lie to me, ever again. You won't hide things from me, either. Understood?"

He nodded miserably, rolling to the side, facing the ceiling.

"I just… I won't make love to you while imagining Thor in your place. I just… won't. And I really don't know why it came over me all of a sudden. I don't want him. I only want you."

Loki half wished she would slap him and leave the room in a huff. But that was another reason why he loved her: Jane Foster was not the hysterical type of woman.

"And I you, Loki. Truth be told, it happens to me too. But it hurts less every time."

Loki smiled sadly. He hoped together they would do it, sometime. Forget Thor. Make him stop hurting them even from the distance. Forget he had ever existed.

ooo

Erik picked Loki up at home (it was interesting how fast the house had become "home" to him, simply because Jane was in it), punctual like always. His friend (and surrogate father) still did not allow him to take the bus to work, even after finding out about Loki's true origins. And figuring out that Loki was perfectly able to rebuff unwanted advances – preferably by turning his offenders into mice.

He did not resist the urge of kissing the only man he still wanted to be close to on the cheek, before jumping out of the van.

"Don't let him talk you into after hours yet again," Erik called after him, giving him the strict fatherly eyebrow.

Loki only waved and smiled assuredly; as if. Tomorrow was his big day. It wouldn't do for the groom to have purple eye circles to go with his brand new Boss suit.

He waited until Erik's van rounded the corner, then he grinned and popped open a few buttons of his blouse. He still wasn't getting paid only for making cappuccinos. Even if his cappuccinos were excellent.

After the first wave of customers had passed – the morning ones, grabbing a coffee before work – Loki leant against the counter, polishing it absentmindedly with a kitchen cloth and smiling dreamily.

This time tomorrow he would be a married man.

He was not able to put into words how happy he felt. And his vocabulary failing him was saying something.

The Thor episode a few nights ago was all but forgotten (making love to Jane until they both could not recall how to spell their own names had seen to that).

Even the second Thor episode was forgotten: Loki had gone out the prior night to celebrate his stag party. He had been pleasantly surprised at how easily Jane's friends from university accepted him, without asking any questions as to where his own friends were. There were only easy smiles, clapping on his shoulders and congratulating him, and swallowing the "I'm from Norway" without probing into it too much. Loki had had more fun than he probably should, allowing the thrumming beat to quicken his pulse as much as the women, in whose tiny excuses for clothes he and the other guys were constantly pushing dollar notes.

And yes, he really had had a little too much to drink yet again, and he had thought he had seen a flash of luminous blond hair, Thor's elegant, strong silhouette, standing motionlessly amidst the writhing bodies on the dancefloor, observing him.

Then Loki had blinked and Thor had ceased to exist once more.

Loki shook his head. He would forget about Thor. He would be happy.

He would.

_He would._

Even if Thor marched in this very moment, the snug fitting jeans doing nothing to hide his slim waist and hips, these beautiful blue eyes burning Loki's soul to ashes, only to put it together again with a single, unusually shy smile.

Loki stared at him, wide-eyed, mouth agape. Then he balled his fists.

How dared he!

Loki seethed.

How dared he be here?

How dared he simply pop into existence, directly in front of his nose, as if the Bifrost was in its best shape, as if nothing ever went wrong?

As if they did not fight to the death, last time they saw each other? That fool snarling at him in his righteous rage, Loki fighting dirty. Dirtier than usual, that is.

How dared he waltz in, as if he owned the place! How dared he disturb the peace Loki had found, along with people who actually cared about him, and cared not who he was, by his mere presence?

How dared he _smile at him like this_? All white teeth and dimples and electric blue eyes, holding the skies, and promises of home and forgiveness, and so much love it made Loki's knees go weak. Tanned, scarred hands Loki remembered pleasuring his trembling body only too well, forcing raw screams from his throat, now gripped the counter:

"A double cappuccino to go, please… _brother_."

Loki was reduced to gaping again. Then he complied, working on autopilot, stealing glances at Thor over his shoulder.

The entire situation was too surreal for him to handle. Gods. He needed his boss right now, or at least for some customer to be here.

Finally, he pushed the paper cup towards Thor, swallowing audibly.

"I am not your brother."

"Yes, so you have said. Repeatedly."

"You must mistake me for someone else. Especially as I am not a man."

Thor only smiled patiently. His eyes were still shining with that damned _love_. Loki cursed under his breath, his heart hammering in his chest.

"Yes, you are. You are Loki, my brother. My lover. My world."

Loki bit his lip hard to stop the tears welling up in his eyes, hating Thor more than ever.

Loving him more than ever.

"How did you recognize me," he asked flatly, giving up all pretenses.

"Your eyes." Thor reached up a hand, his thumb brushing over Loki's eyelashes.

Loki blinked, his mouth opening and closing, without producing a single sound.

He had looked at himself in the mirror this morning, applying makeup. He knew for sure that Leyla's eyes were dark, almost black. Generally, none of the features he was wearing now reminded of his true self.

"Loki… it was you. It was always you. Or do you really think I did not know whom I bedded back then in Asgard, again and again? Blondes, redheads, brunettes, thin ones, curvy ones. All of those women throwing themselves at me, after that night you threw your daggers at me, after I took Sif to bed. Or rather, after you thought I took her to bed. I am aware of the fact that all of those women have been _you_. Of the fact that you wanted to control me, and my urges, by infleshing them. I minded not."

Loki was left speechless yet again.

Thor had beaten him at his own game.

And for some reason, this warmed his not-so-cold-anymore little heart.

He opened his mouth to deny everything, then he simply sighed, rubbing at an imaginary speck of dust on the counter.

"Borr's beard. Why are you here? Why can't you leave me alone? Someone trying to commit suicide should be a cue, even for you. I should be dead, actually, so why did you come after me? How did you find me at all?"

Loki wanted to punch the indulgent smile off of Thor's much to beautiful face.

"I never believed your death. I never _wanted_ to believe it. And, some months ago, your magic… slipped. Heimdall saw you. He informed me. He also told me the same as you, to leave you alone. He refused to give me the exact reason as to why, only said you found happiness. But… I wanted to see for myself. Wanted to see you."

Thor was kneading his fingers restlessly and Loki cursed himself once more. He knew exactly when this had happened. It was the night he had been so very tired – the night Jane had found out.

"I drove every Asgardian mercilessly into restoring the Bifrost, I worked with my bare hands until it was whole again. So here I am… I wanted to beg you to come home. I wanted to beg your forgiveness, for everything that I've done wrong, and that's so, so many things I wouldn't even fathom where to begin. It took you committing suicide for me to realize that I'm nothing without you."

Loki was crying openly now, and turned away, furiously dabbing at his eyes with the kitchen cloth.

"What about your Jane?" he asked venomously; the effect was lost, due to his sobbing.

"She… I am grateful for what she did for me, back then. But she is not the one holding my heart. I have not let her know that I am here."

Loki's heart constricted a little more. He hated himself, hated that he was not even able to maintain his protective walls up for a little longer, in Thor's presence. He hated himself for even entertaining the thought of betraying Jane. His beautiful, perfect Jane, who had chosen _him_.

The bell announced the arrival of customers – _finally_, Loki thought, glad that he would not have to make his choice now. He rubbed at his irritated eyes.

"Go, Thor. Go away, damn it. Leave me in peace."

He had not expected Thor to comply that easily. His long, strong fingers wrapped around the paper cup, while other people lined up behind him.

"I shall be on my way," he whispered. But I will come again tomorrow. And the day after that. And the day after that, until you forgive me. Until you want me again, until you believe me that I loved you, always have, and always will."

Thor straightened up again, gave him a loving smile that turned Loki's knees to jelly once more, and left Loki to stare after him.

A long time after his broad back had disappeared through the double door.

"Miss? Miss!" Someone was snapping their fingers in front of Loki's unseeing eyes.

He thought about his beautiful bride, waiting for him. About their cozy home. About the pure, true happiness he had found. He imagined the adorable children they would have, their laughter, their cute faces, the tapping of small feet.

He thought about the love, the loyalty he held for Jane.

Then he thought about Thor.

Loki needed exactly 1.3 seconds to make his decision.

He swung his legs over the counter in a very un-ladylike way, landing on his feet like a cat, not even caring about the apron he was still wearing, pushing the protesting, cursing humans out of his way.

Panting, Loki ran out of the coffee shop, out of his secure haven, out of the pleasantly cool air into the scalding heat. He was only able to hear his heart thrumming in his chest like a trapped bird and the frantic clicking staccato of his high-heels on the pavement.

And his own voice, weak and trembling:

"Thor! _Thor_! Wait!"

FIN

ooo

A/N: In case you are wondering about the end... it's just Loki being self-destructive and psychically dependant, as always :shrugs: It's probably a happy-end for all of the Thorki fans, but not a happy-end as such. Also, some of you were wondering why Loki doesn't simply tell Thor to "come again later, after I'm finished here", as in, after Jane's dead. Seriously, would you accept such an offer in Thor's place? Thor's and Loki's love is an "all or nothing" kind of love c: Moreover, it would be not fair towards Jane, for Loki to wait for her to die, so he can be with Thor again. I had to explain - usually, I include such hints in the story, but it didn't work this time, as Loki wasn't exactly... thinking, when seeing Thor again xD

So... As the correcting + polishing of this story has taken all of my "thank you"s with it... I would like to thank you again, for all of your encouraging words, constructive critiques, and thoughts c:

Until the next story!


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